


who'll save you when you fall?

by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, Ficlet, Gen, Missing Scene, POV First Person, Second Kinslaying | Sack of Doriath, Third Kinslaying (Tolkien)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster
Summary: Elwing and two nightmares colliding.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 23





	who'll save you when you fall?

**Author's Note:**

> title from Battle Cries by The Amazing Devil
> 
> thanks to moiety and akirakurosawa for sparking Thoughts

There is screaming and fire. There is blood and arms around me, carrying me away, but I look back, and this is what I see: red hair, black hair. Ammë and Ada on the ground. Red ribbons lying all about them. The little boys in blue are running beside us, and then they are not running beside us anymore. I cannot see the faces of the ones who have taken them, but I can hear them screaming. I reach for them, but I cannot reach them.

I am going to die. The one-handed one and his warriors are going to reach inside my ribcage and pull out the ribbons of red inside me and I will lie on the ground with glass-bead eyes and everything will be dark. I smell smoke. I smell burning. My throat hurts so much. The bright white light around me is the only thing that feels like hope.

I sit up from the nightmare into another nightmare. Eärendil is not here, but the smell of ash and smoke is still here, the pain in my throat is still here. I can hear the screaming from my nightmare. _Where are the boys—where are my boys_? Where is my light, where is my nightlight that chases away the nightmares?

I grope for it, tumbling over the side of the bed and landing painfully. I cannot breathe. I cannot hear. I must have my nightlight. I find it and clutch it to my breast, but the screaming does not stop, the sounds and smells of my nightmare do not stop. I stumble to the window, my knee smarting painfully, and I look out and see—

Ribbons. Red ribbons on the ground. Ash and fire rising to the sky. The one-handed one has _found_ me—he is there—I can _see_ him. Not a phantom, not a nightmare. When I raise my nightlight, he does not vanish back into my dreams. No—no—he slices and burns and _kills and kills and kills_ —and I hear the screaming—and I cannot stop the screaming--

And I can’t reach the little boys in blue. I can never reach the little boys in blue.


End file.
